


The Sex Shop

by h4t08



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Meet-Cute, Mentions of Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 07:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h4t08/pseuds/h4t08
Summary: A 'meet-cute au' where Shelagh works at Beatrix's Boudoir, an upscale sex shop, when Patrick stumbles in looking to buy a phone charger.
Relationships: Bernadette | Shelagh Turner/Patrick Turner
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	The Sex Shop

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of waaaaay left field, however I could not get the idea out of my head. 
> 
> Thank you to @aimeejessica for the encouragement! You have been an amazing friend!
> 
> T.W.: mentions of various sex toys (although nothing too explicit)

“I promise, Ange, that I’ll be there soon!” 

He can hear the older woman sigh, yet he is unsure if it’s because of him or if a nurse under her charge had placed something in a wrong place. “Forgive me, Doctor Turner,” he silently groans, “however you always say that.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I had to take Timothy to school.” He dodges between people as he races down the busy sidewalk. “While there, the headmaster brought me in so that I could sign up for Professionals Day.” 

“What is Professionals Day?” 

“I had asked that precise question and I was drawn into a conversation that lasted for a half an hour.” 

Remarkably, he hears her slam a folder down onto a table despite the noise of a bustling city around him. “That doesn’t excuse me having to start the training for you, a training, I will remind you, that you created yourself.” 

“But you are the best!” His phone vibrates against his ear. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” 

Looking down at his screen, with the busy morning he has had, he is not surprised to find that he is currently sitting at five percent battery. Digging inside the pocket of his coat, he nearly groans when he feels the battery bank but no cord. “How about lunch at your favorite diner.” 

“Throw in a slice of their Victoria Sponge, then you’ve got a deal.” 

“Brilliant!” His phone vibrates again, yet this time he sees that he is close to the corner where Fred’s newspaper shop sits. With his penchant for losing charging cords now a running joke amongst his staff, he’s secretly glad that Fred keeps stock of the older cable with the longer charging head. “Listen, I have to pop into Fred’s to buy a charging cable. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” 

“But Doctor Turn—” 

His phone shuts off. “Shit.” Stuffing the dead weight in his pocket, he quickly opens the door to the newspaper shop and slips in. “Hey-o, Fred! I’m going to… to…,” he stops in his tracks. 

Gone are the rows of magazines, newspapers, and junk food. Instead, he is faced with pearl colored walls with satin overlays lined with lacy lingerie in assorted colors and attachments as well as various provocative toys of the bedroom persuasion. 

“May I help you?”

He awkwardly clears his throat as his eyes catch the glossy black dildo strap-on being modeled on a mannequin which also shows off a pair of tasseled nipple clamps. “I was looking for Fred.” He glances over his shoulder to see that he is on the correct street corner. 

“Mr. Buckle and his newspaper shop moved three blocks over to be next to Mrs. Buckle and her haberdashery.” 

“You don’t say.” Twisting back around, he instantly feels his cheeks redden when he sees a mirrored tray with various sized bullet style plugs, many of them with various tails on the end. He knows that he should just leave, yet, for some unknown reason, his feet are not cooperating. Staring down at his shoes, he tries his best to make them move, yet instead he finds himself murmuring, “When did that happen?” 

“Three months ago.” 

He supposes he should have known that had he commuted by public transport like he had for the past two years, however with Angela, his antique MG, working in fine fiddle fashion and the gorgeous weather the past few months, he had decided to drive into work with the windows down and ELO blaring from his speakers, much to Timothy’s embarrassment. At least until today when Angela refused to start. He lifts his wrist and looks at his watch and winces at the time. While any other day he could make the trek over to Fred’s new shop, he knows that Ange would have a field day if he is any later than what he promised. 

“Can I help you with anything?” 

He finally gathers the nerve to look up to find a young woman standing next to a case of diamond encrusted paddles and gold chains. She is dressed elegantly in a black form-fitting dress, her hair pinned back in a neat updo. If he weren’t standing in an upscale sex shop, he might - might! - have at least asked for her name.  _ She is very pretty - beautiful, even _ . He shakes his head.  _ And obviously way out of your league, old man _ . “I need a phone charger.” 

She bites down on her bottom lip as if she is trying not to laugh. “We do have an apparatus from our WebMaster series that can charge your phone while you are streaming a performance for your audience.”

His eyes widen, the image of such an item and its use running wildly within his mind. “I just need a cable for my old iPhone.” 

She tilts her head to the side. “Which model do you have?”

He focuses his eyes on her pretty face, the golden rim of her glasses reminding him of a nun from when he was in school which helps to cool his libido. “An old one. My son has been trying to drag me into a phone shop to update my, and I quote, ‘dinosaur of a phone’.” 

He is completely mesmerized and taken with the young woman as she giggles under her breath. He wants nothing more than to make her laugh again just so that he can hear that sweet sound. “I have the same phone. My friend Trixie is threatening to buy me a new one.” She disappears behind the counter for a moment before meeting him in the middle of the shop with the long white cord in her hand. “Here. Take it.”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t. As far as I know, only Fred carried them and I think it was just for my benefit.” 

“You look like you are in a pinch.” She thrusts the cord into his hand. “Besides, this might be the reason I would need to update my phone.” 

“I promise, I’ll bring it back to you.” 

She smiles kindly and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Thank you.” He stuffs the cord in his pocket. “I will return it with a slice of the best Victoria Sponge you will ever have as payment in interest.”

She laughs again, her cheeks flushing bright pink. “That is not necessary.” 

Just to hear her laugh is reason enough to stay here for the rest of the day or, at the very least, return after his rounds. “I have to go. I am to give a training this morning and I am already late.” 

“Have a good day.” Her smile reaches her bright blue eyes.

He knows that he will have the best day ever. “Thank you again.” Completely smitten with her, he tries to play it cool as he turns towards the door. However, luck is not on his side when he trips over his own feet and falls on top of a saddle type device, his hand grabbing the first thing to steady himself, which ended up being a realistic looking dildo. Throwing his hands in the air, he turns back to the young woman, ready to profusely apologize, only to see her doubled over laughing. Embarrassment stings his cheeks and his ego, yet hearing her laugh makes it all worth it. “I promise not to touch the merchandise.” 

“This is…,” she tries to breath through her laughter, “the most fun I… I have had.”

With careful feet, he makes it to the door without another incident. He is about to thank her again when he realizes that he doesn’t know her name. “I’m Patrick.” 

She clasps her hands in front of her body, her cheeks still rosy red from her laughter. “Shelagh.” 

“There, we made a start.” And before he can make more of a fool of himself, he slips out of the small shop and resumes his pace towards the hospital. 

* * *

“So let me get this straight,” Trixie looks up from the shipment box of black leather cock rings, “you need to go to the phone store and finally buy a new one because you gave your last charging cable to a stranger that had walked in thinking this was Fred’s newspaper shop.” 

“He looked like he was in a bind.” 

Trixie tips her head to the side. “Then maybe he wasn’t in the wrong shop after all.”

“Trixie!” Her cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes. 

“Oh my god!” Trixie stands with her fists caught on her hips. “Shelagh Mannion, you are completely smitten with him.” 

“I don’t even know him!” 

“You know that his name is Patrick, he has a son, and that he likes to hold onto cell phone relics just like yourself.” She flicks her manicured finger through her platinum blonde hair. “I’ve been on dates knowing less than you do.” 

She crosses her arms along her chest. “I’m just letting you know that my lunch break might take longer.” 

Trixie throws her hands in the air. “I’ve been telling you that you needed to get a new phone for ages. If I knew that all you needed was a man with the same affection for artifacts to take your last charger, then I would have made it happen a long time ago.”

“I should make it back in time for my appointments.” 

“Hmm,” Trixie looks over at the appointment book. “A few new clients and Mr. Dawson for his normal time on every other Tuesday.” 

She picks up the shipment box and takes it to where the other male enhancements are. “I don’t know why you say it like that.” 

“He comes in every other Tuesday like clockwork just to buy anything you suggest to him.” Trixie’s perfect eyebrow arches. “I think he might have a slight crush on you.”

She swallows past the nerves clustered at the bottom of her throat. Last time Mr. Dawson was in the store, he had made a comment that made her feel uncomfortable. She brushed it off, thinking that it was the nature of the business of working in such a provocative atmosphere, but now she wonders if he is expecting more. “You told me to be friendly with all of our clients.” Wanting to keep her hands busy, she pulls out one of the cock rings and places it on the counter.

Trixie’s brows dip. “Has he made you uncomfortable in any way?” 

Using her key, she opens the draw under the counter and places the other boxes in it. “He had suggested that I should model some of the lingerie for him.” 

“I hope you told him to fuck off.” 

She takes a deep breath as she breaks down the small box. “I told him that I was never going to do that. He apologized after.” 

Trixie reaches out and captures her arm. “If he says anything like that again, then you tell him to kiss the pavement.” 

She bites down on her bottom lip. “But he’s our best client.” 

“I don’t care if he’s the king of France. If he doesn’t treat you with respect, then I’ll be happy to provide my business to someone who will.” Trixie steps in front of her. “Promise me, Shelagh that if he says anything that makes you uncomfortable that you will say something to me immediately.” 

She nods. “I promise.” She gives her friend a small smile. “Thank you.” 

“Clients will come and go, but you will always be my friend.” Trixie pats her arm. “Take the time that you need. Lord knows how long it will take for them to transfer your data.” 

“Ha. Ha.” She rolls her eyes as she picks up another box and opens it. “Ever since that time I accidentally dropped my phone in my oatmeal, I have been backing everything up on my iCloud.” 

Trixie shakes her head as she laughs under her breath. “I can’t even believe that it still worked, especially with how runny you enjoy your oatmeal.” 

She was about to retort back with Trixie’s breakfast of champions of half of a grapefruit and a glass of sparkling juice when she opened the next box. “Oh, it’s the Le Petit Corset Bras.” 

“Finally!” Trixie pulls the box towards her. “Ever since we had placed these in the window, they have been selling like hotcakes.” 

“There are a few people who are on the waiting list.” She walks behind the desk and pulls up the list on the computer. “I’ll make sure to call them first to see if they are still interested.” 

“Tell them that if they come in and buy the corset, then we will give them half off on one pair of briefs so that they can complete the set.” She folds the box closed and walks towards the back of the store. “And don’t think that we are finished talking about Patrick.”

She had secretly hoped that Trixie had forgotten about him, yet, by now, she should know better. “I would never think that,” she laments in a bored voice, “but it looks like I have a lot of phone calls to make.” 

“Always the busy worker bee,” Trixie calls out from the storage room. “I believe the last box is our order for the Kiki handcuff wristlets.”

“The gold chain one that can double as a choker?” At Trixie’s affirmation, she opens the box and takes out one jewelry box. “I’ll place one in the locked case.” 

“I’m so glad that you decided to work here.” Trixie’s smile is genuine as she takes the box of the wristlets in her arms. 

“Me too.” She settles behind the desk and picks up the phone to call the first client on her list.

* * *

“Alright!” Patrick blinks several times to help him to refocus his attention on the angry woman in front of him. “I have been talking my head off on why I think you should put in the proposal for the board of directors, yet you haven’t heard a word I have been saying.” Ange pushes her empty plate off to the side. “Are you okay?”

His eyes widen at her gentle tone. She would only use it when she was about to bring up Marianne. “I’m fine.” 

“Mmm,” she rolls her eyes. “I don’t believe you. You’ve been out of sorts all day.” 

“You would think that is normal.”

“More out of sort than normal,” she huffs, her piercing eyes never leaving him. 

Glancing out of the window, he steals a moment to get lost in the people walking along the street, the clear blue skies reminding him of Shelagh’s remarkable eyes. “It’s been two years since Marianne passed away and not a day goes by that I don’t think of her.” 

“However?”

He presses his lips into a fine line, his chaotic morning slowing when he was in her presence to that of a lazy brook he used to play at whenever he visited his grandparents in the country when he was no older than Timothy. “It’s silly really.” 

“No it isn’t.” He glances back at Ange, finding slight comfort in her no-nonsense attitude. 

“I don’t even know her,” his eyes fall onto the dizzying pattern on the formica table top. “I mean, other than her name.” 

“To whom are you referring to, Patrick Turner?” 

The use of his full name has him looking back at Ange. “I had met this woman when I had gone into Fred’s newspaper shop.”

“In his new location?” 

He feels his cheeks blushing. “No, his old one.” 

Ange’s eyes widen, yet he can see her trying not to laugh. “The new shop there is called Beatrix’s Boudoir. I care not to think what they must be selling.” 

“I can tell you with certainty that they weren’t selling pillow top mattresses.” Finally Ange cracks a smile and he feels himself relaxing. “I feel like every moment of the day is either spent thinking about Timothy or Marianne or work. For the first time, in a long time, I thought of nothing else other than to make her laugh.” 

“Then go and ask her out, for goodness sakes, and stop belly aching about it.” 

He shifts slightly in his chair when Ange’s loud voice attracts the attention of the table full of nurses from the ER. “It’s not that easy.”

“Bologna!” 

He rolls his eyes. “She’s younger than me and is quite…,” his heart beats against his throat, “quite beautiful.” 

“As far as I know, you have two options, Patrick Turner.” She holds up one finger. “One, you forget about her and wallow in your self pity.”

He scrunches his nose. “I don’t wallow.” 

She ignores him and raises her next finger. “Or two, you pluck up the courage and ask her out.”

His finger nervously rubs circles along the pad of his thumb. “What if she says no?”

Ange shrugs her shoulders. “What if she says yes? You won’t know until you try. Now,” she gathers her purse, “be a good lad and bring her a slice of that Victoria Sponge.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She stands and pats his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Patrick. If it’s meant to be, then it’ll be.” Giving him one last smile, she walks out of the diner leaving him to his own thoughts. 

It is only after a few seconds does he silently admit that Ange is right,  _ she always is _ . He should go to that shop after his rounds and ask her out. If she says yes, then he has to plan where to take her. If she says no, then at least he tried. 

“That looked rather intense,” Winnie, their normal waitress, sweeps by and picks up their plates. “Is there anything I can get for you, Doctor Turner?”

“May I please get a slice of your Victoria Sponge and your cranachan to-go?” 

* * *

“I really do like this torso harness.” Mr. Dawson holds up an intricate chain with Ben Wa beads at the bottom. “Do you happen to know of it’s durability?” 

“It is specifically made to show rather than to bond, however if you are looking for more durability, then may I suggest one of the many selections of our leather restraints.” Shelagh steps to the side to show him their limited collection. “If you are looking for something that would appease a particular taste, then I would suggest visiting Coco de Mer.” 

Mr. Dawson places the silver chain back on the display. “Please add this to my cart.” 

She pulls out a jewelry box and adds it to his growing pile behind the counter. 

Trixie, waiting on a customer to finish trying on a corset, leans over and quietly asks, “Okay?” 

Remembering their conversation earlier, she gives her a smile and nods before walking back onto the main floor. She hears the door open, yet hearing Trixie greeting their new customer, she keeps her mind focused on Mr. Dawson in front of her. “Is there anything else you are looking at today?” 

He motions over towards their lingerie section. “I was thinking something like this.” He points to the model with a black lace teddy. 

“We have many to choose from.” As she pulls out their catalogue of the fashions they have stocked in the store, the voice of the new customer catches her off guard. Quickly glancing up, she finds the same man from the morning -  _ Patrick! _ \- holding a plastic bag in one hand and her charging cord in the other as he talks with Trixie. Feeling her cheeks flush, she silently tells herself to focus on the task currently at hand with Mr. Dawson. “If you do not find anything that you like here, then I would be happy to show you our online catalogue, however, it will cost extra for those to be shipped.” 

Mr. Dawson leans in and whispers, “You should know by now, Shelagh, that price is of no importance to me.” 

She keeps herself from shivering as his warm breath curls against her ear. She looks up to find that Trixie is consulting her customer, yet Patrick is looking straight at them. Not wanting to worry him or to drive him away, she gives him a small smile before stepping back to put some distance between her and Mr. Dawson. “What color are you looking for?” 

Mr. Dawson’s smile is easy as he leans against the case. “Midnight black to match her fair skin and shimmering blue eyes.” 

“We have this one that is made of silk and lace.” She points to the one that looks more like a romper. “This one is made of silk chiffon.” She points to another with a plunging neckline and a belt at the waist. “This one is made of silk charmeuse.” She points to the high waisted teddy with French lace edging the bottom. 

Mr. Dawson doesn’t even look at the pictures in the catalogue, his eyes never leaving her. “I shall take all three of them.”

Forcing a smile, she takes another step back. “Very well. Which size do you require?” 

Pushing himself up, Mr. Dawson takes a step towards her and murmurs in a low tone, “Whichever size you are.” 

Just as she is about to call out for Trixie, she sees the flap of a trench coat out of the corner of her eye. “Darling, I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I wanted to drop this off for you.” Patrick hands her the plastic bag and the phone cord. “Call me when you are finished at the store.” He lightly places his palm against the small of her back as he glances at Mr. Dawson with cold, unrelenting eyes. “I’ll come by and pick you up.” 

Feeling quite comfortable within Patrick’s open embrace, she decides to play along with his scenario when she notices Mr. Dawson taking a timid step back. “Thank you, dear. I will call you as soon as we finish with the inventory.” 

“I have to run.” Patrick kisses her temple before turning back to Mr. Dawson and nodding. “Sir.” He lets go and walks out of the shop. 

Instantly, she misses Patrick’s gentle touch, the timber of his voice soothing her anxiety. When she sees the door close, she turns back to Mr. Dawson. Instead of apologizing like she normally would have, she lifts her brow and asks, “Which size do you require?” 

Mr. Dawson’s face sours, yet he quickly fixes himself with a strained smile. “I am looking for a size four, if you have it.” 

“Of course.” She pulls out the teddies with the plunging neckline and the French lace. “The last one is in the back. Excuse me.” Slipping behind the counter, she places the plastic bag and cord next to the computer. 

Trixie captures her arm and whispers, “Are you okay?” 

“Yes.” She gives her a small smile, silently telling her that she will tell her everything when there are no more customers in the store. Unlocking the door to the storage area, she quickly finds the romper teddy and makes her way out. “You are in luck, Mr. Dawson. You have the last size four.” 

“Splendid.” He meets her at the register and pulls out his credit card. “Which shop did you mention before?” 

“Coco de Mer. They have an extensive selection of bondage tools.” She scans each item before gingerly wrapping them in pearl and black tissue paper. “We typically purchase from the same vendors. If someone were to come in here and were not able to find what they were specifically looking for, then we suggest Coco de Mer.” 

Mr. Dawson pays for his purchases with a tight smile. “Thank you, Shelagh, for your help.” 

“Shall I pencil you in for another appointment in two weeks?” 

“No. I will be out of town.” He takes both of his bags. “I will have my assistant call should I need to set an appointment.”

“Very well.” She gives him a bright, friendly smile. “Have a good evening, Mr. Dawson.”

Tipping his head, he quickly walks out of the store. 

Seeing that Trixie is still busy with her customer, she turns and takes a peek into the plastic bag to find two treats sealed in plastic containers; one is a sponge to which Patrick had referred to that morning and the other, cranachan, is something that she hadn’t seen since she had moved away from her hometown of Aberdeen. She hopes beyond hope that she didn’t scare away Patrick with Mr. Dawson’s lecherous attitude. Tying the bag, she places it and the cord in her purse and sends a quick pray that he will come back soon. 

* * *

Patrick watches as the last customer walks out of the small shop from his view in the café across the street. While he had planned for a different outcome altogether when he first walked in, he is glad that he was there at the right time to protect her from the man who was clearly making her feel uncomfortable. 

After making his exit from the shop, he had dipped into the café he is at now and saw the man leave about ten minutes after him. Secure with the knowledge that he was not going to bother her again, at least for the evening, he decided to wait in the café until the store closed. 

When he had settled with his first coffee, he called Timothy to let him know that he was going to be late. At first, his teenage son was quite upset that he was going to be delayed, especially with his earlier promise to finish the last two episodes of “The Expanse” that evening. However, when the younger boy had deduced that his dad was not at the hospital, he started asking many questions, which ended with him confessing that he was gathering the nerve to ask someone out for a date. Timothy then proceeded to give him advice, all of which went in one ear and out the other. By the time they hung up, he still had an hour to kill, which ended up being advantageous so that he could look up different restaurants in the area that he could take her to should she be agreeable. 

Now, as he pays his final bill, he feels his nerves rolling like thunderous waves, starting in the pit of his belly and defying gravity by crashing against the base of his throat. It has been quite a long time since he had asked out a woman, so much so that he knows that things have changed. He just hopes that she will see him for what he truly is and not someone like the other man who had made her uncomfortable. 

Taking a deep breath, he crosses the street and walks up to the door. Stamping down the foolish desire to turn around, he knocks on the door and waits for someone to answer. 

It quickly swings open by a younger woman with blonde hair and a know-it-all smile. “Patrick, I presume?” She widens the door and steps to the side to let him in when he quietly nods. “I’m Beatrix, but people call me Trixie. I own this shop.

“Nice to meet you.”

She tilts her head to the side, her ruby red lips curving into a sly grin. “I wanted to personally thank you for helping Shelagh with that beastly man. I can assure you that he will no longer be a bother to her.” 

He can feel the tips of his ears reddening. “It was no problem, really.”

“Hmm,” she crosses her arms along her chic, form-fitting dress. “Please wait right here as I go to fetch Shelagh from the storage room.” She primly turns and disappears behind the door in the back of the shop. 

Clasping his hands behind his back, he glances around around the shop. Now that he is prepared for what he is to find, it doesn’t shock him as much as when he had stumbled in that morning. While the more adventurous toys like the strap-ons and the bondage sets still causes him to flush, he can appreciate their taste in their classy and elegant selection of lingerie. Well, that is until he sees a full catsuit made of black latex on a mannequin in the corner with golden zippers over the naughty parts. 

“Hello, Patrick.” He turns back to the gentle voice that he has been thinking about all day. 

“Hello, Shelagh.” He shyly smiles and, in return, her blue eyes sparkle against the soft lighting of the shop. 

“Goodbye, Patrick and Shelagh,” Trixie throws her large purse over her shoulder. “Have fun with your KNSA,” she loudly whispers to Shelagh just as she passes by her. “It was nice to meet you, Patrick. Hopefully we will see you in the store more often.” 

The younger blonde woman softly giggles as Shelagh whispers, “Trixie!” 

“Goodnight,” Trixie sings as she slips out of the shop.

Shelagh rolls her eyes as she clasps her hand in front of her body. “I’m sorry for her obvious behavior.” 

“What does KNSA mean?”

She looks towards the ceiling as if she is praying for it to pick her up and swallow her whole. “Knight in shining armor.” 

“Oh.” He can feel his cheeks flush. “I hope you didn’t mind my actions earlier. You looked rather uncomfortable.” 

“I was. It was not the first time he had made an unpleasant comment like that to me. I was about to call Trixie over, when you had come over to help.” She catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “I do appreciate it.”

A small balloon of hope and happiness begins to expand within his chest as he stares at his soft pink lips. “I’m sorry about the kiss. I didn’t want to come across as untoward with you and fraudulent with him.” 

“The kiss was nice,” she quickly calls out. 

The balloon in his chest nearly pops. “I do hope that he never comes back in here again.” 

“I think he received your intentions loud and clear.” 

“Good.” The air between them becomes awkward as they both strive to find conversation.

“Thank you for the cake and cranachan.” She points towards her purse behind the counter. “They both look absolutely delicious.” 

“I was going to… I mean…,” he tries to swallow past the colossal wave crashing against his throat. “I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me sometime soon.” 

Her shy smile widens. “I would love to.” 

The balloon in his chest finally pops as confetti rains down on him. “What day is best for you?” 

“Tomorrow night, if that is okay.” 

“That is more than okay.” He bounces on the ball of his feet as excitement rushes through him. “How does Greek sound?” 

“It sounds absolutely lovely.” She steps behind the counter and retrieves her big purse. “I have to lock up. Do you mind walking me to the tube station?” 

“Of course!” He opens the door for her and closes it. 

After she locks both locks with her key, she stuffs her keyring in her purse and pulls out the white cable. “You didn’t have to bring my cord back. I went and purchased a new phone today during lunch.” She pulls out the newer model box to show him. 

He takes the cord from her and twirls it around his fingers before slipping it in his jacket pocket. “I actually ordered new phones online for myself and my son, Timothy, today. I should be able to pick them up tomorrow morning.” 

She giggles under her breath and he is completely mesmerized under her spell. “Everything worked itself out in the end, didn’t it?” 

They stop in front of the entrance to the tube station. “For the best, I think.” Stuffing his hands deep in his pockets, he wishes that their night can go on forever. “I’ll come by tomorrow after your shop closes to pick you up for our date. I hope you don’t mind, but the Greek restaurant is not too far from here.” 

“I can’t wait.” 

“Me too.” he stands before her, completely enchanted with the way her eyes shine in the moonlight and the streetlamp. 

“I have to catch my train. Goodnight, Patrick.” She leans in and kisses him on his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight,” he calls out to her as she disappears in the tube station. He watches her retreating form and waves when she turns to him just before she goes beyond the corner. “Yes!” He jumps in the air as elation rushes through him at a dizzying rate. 

His soul is lifted as he feels like he is walking on clouds. It is only when he is two blocks down the road does he remember that he never asked for her phone number. He immediately reasons that he will see her tomorrow and his heart skips an extra beat at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
